The answer was embarrassing.
“Where am I to find a lover when I am following around a foolish young woman?” she countered, struggling to regain her composure. “My focus is on her, not on finding someone who will salivate all over me.”
Achilles could see that he had her off-balance. He rather liked it. “Then you are telling me you have never even been kissed?”
Susanna thought her face was going to go up in flames; she was flushing so hard that even her neck was hot. “That is none of your affair,” she said. “Stop asking me silly questions.”
Achilles was grinning openly at her by now. “I would not worry if I were you,” he said. “You are pretty enough to be kissed. But do not punch the man who tries. You just might like it.”
She simply rolled her eyes and looked away, collecting her drink and sipping at it. Achilles kept his focus on her, waiting to see her reaction, but she wouldn’t give him one. He chuckled at her. She was a stubborn one.
“Not to worry, Sparks,” he said as he rose from his chair. “I am sure some fool will try to kiss you at some point. You shall not remain unkissed forever.”
“Are you leaving now?” she said drolly. “Finally, I shall have some peace.”
Achilles felt far less annoyed with her now that he knew how to tame her; any mention of kissing, or flattery, and the woman lost her composure. He would have to remember that for the future.
“Do not get too comfortable,” he said. “I may yet come back.”
“Do not bother. I am going to bed.”
Achilles waited until she turned to look at him before he winked at her. As he’d anticipated, her red cheeks were in no danger of returning to their normal color any time soon. He thought it was rather funny.
And rather sweet.
Turning his back on her, he headed back over to Bric and Alexander as they waited for Kress to emerge from Lady Cadelyn’s chamber.
What Achilles didn’t see was the smile on Susanna’s face when she knew he couldn’t see her.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Lioncross Abbey Castle
Herefordshire
It had takenhim three and a half days.
Antoninus almost wept when he finally saw the massive walls of Lioncross Abbey Castle come in to view. A massive and legendary place, Lioncross Abbey Castle was so named because it was built on the site of an ancient Roman house of worship and incorporated portions of two walls and part of the foundation into the modern building. The fortress sat atop a ridge overlooking a large lake and the deep purple mountains that marked the Welsh border could be seen in the distance. Thick banks of trees surrounded the moat of the fortress and made the region appear lush and fertile, even in the dead of winter.
In fact, it was all rather bucolic, a place of serenity. How could there be anything wrong in the entire world when there were places as beautiful as this? It looked like a place Antoninus would have liked to have stayed, a peaceful life on the borders,far from the hell of The Paladin and the rebels who wanted to burn the north of Wales with their rage.
It was a world of difference.
Arriving at the enormous gatehouse of Lioncross, with its lion shield in stone at the crest of the archway, he told the gate sentries who he was and where he was from, and begged for an audience with the Earl of Hereford and Worcester. The gate guards, recognizing the name of the Earl of Ellesmere and the de Shera crest, admitted him into the vast bailey.
There, Antoninus was taken over to a yew tree, right in the middle of the bailey, where there was a bench built around it. While a groom took his weary horse to water and bed the animal, Antoninus sat down on the bench and resisted the urge to lay down and sleep.
The ride from the north had been long and exhausting, and the entire time he’d been very worried about Tatius. So much could happen while he was away, and Tatius was as weak as a kitten in a den of lions. As Antoninus sat there and worried, weariness claimed him and he ended up laying on the bench. Gazing up into the branches of the tree, with the sun filtering through, he lingered on thoughts of home.
“Are you from Ellesmere?”
A male voice awoke him. Antoninus’ eyes flew open and he sat up, looking straight at a big knight with dark hair and hazel eyes that had a hint of gold to them.
“I am, my lord,” he said, wiping the sleep from his eyes. “I am Antoninus de Shera, youngest brother of the earl, Tatius. My apologies… I did not mean to fall asleep.”
The knight had a smile playing on his lips as he looked him over. “I know your brother,” he said. “But I have never met you. How old are you?”
“I have seen sixteen years, my lord.”
